Harry's Relation: Part 2
by ZRSFizzyBongs
Summary: Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, Head and Deputy Head of Hogwarts, come across a common name and a familiar place in the summer of 1996. Too much investigation, too many coincidences and just enough stubbornness finally lead to a new home. Sequel to "Part 1". Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**A New Home** Chapter One – A Familiar Name

Albus Dumbledore was sunbathing. It was a sunny day in July and he had opened a window and adjusted his chair so he was sitting right in the sun that shone through the open window. He was enjoying himself. Not only because of the sun, but also because of what he was doing. This was a part of his work he always looked forward to: looking over the names of the new students.

There were common names and uncommon names, familiar names and unfamiliar names. He always amused himself with figuring out which students were Muggleborn, which weren't, and how the latter students were related to older students or ex-students. Even more pleasure he derived from imagining the characters and appearances of new students only to find he had been horribly wrong during the Sorting Ceremony.

This year, a new pair of twins would be entering Hogwarts: Ellie and Katie Snow. Albus stroked his beard while he wondered if they would be more like the Weasley twins or the Patil twins. It would be entertaining to have another pair of troublemakers, now Fred and George had left school. Although Professor McGonagall certainly wouldn't approve of that ...

Albus' gaze travelled from the sisters Snow up to Timothy Nott, Theodore's little brother, past Claire Larbalestier, whose parents had attended Beauxbatons, and finally fell on a familiar name in the top half of the list. Evans. Mark Evans.

Albus stared at the name, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. His instincts told him quite clearly that there was something important about this name, something he should remember and that called for swift action. Albus tried to tell his mind that Evans was simply a very common Muggle name, but he failed miserably. His instincts were not to be fooled. This was an important matter, and there was no way to avoid it. He should have been in motion already, instead of sitting in the sun.

Albus shook his head to clear it. It didn't happen very often, but this time he could make neither head nor tail of his own thoughts. He briefly considered using his Pensieve to figure out what he should remember about the name Evans, but he thought better of it. There was no point to it. He remembered very clearly every Evans that had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since he had become a teacher at the school. Most of them had been Muggleborn. The Evanses, like so many other Muggle families, had never managed to make their name become a well-known wizarding name, due to the murders by first Grindelwald and then Voldemort.

In fact, there was only one wizard with Evans blood at Hogwarts right now, and he didn't even carry the name. Harry Potter, son of Lily Evans.

Albus shook his head once again to clear it, this time from the memories of Lily Evans, one of the most brilliant witches he had ever met, and who had died much too early. Mark Evans couldn't have any connection with Lily Evans, and Albus could only hope young Mark would be an honour to his name. He continued reading the list of names.

A few minutes later, Albus was just trying to decide whether it would be more likely that Ted Bell was Katie's brother or cousin when the door of his office opened to reveal the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall. She looked shaken.

"Albus," she said, while she hurried forward. "I was preparing to send the Hogwarts letters to the new students when I noticed where this one," she brandished an envelope, "was addressed to."

Feeling mildly curious about what had upset Minerva, Albus accepted the letter and looked at the address. It was somewhere in Little Whinging. That was certainly an interesting coincidence. He moved his fingers to reveal the name. _Mark Evans._

"An Evans in Little Whinging, Albus," Minerva continued. "I immediately remembered that other letter to an Evans in Little Whinging." She paused, but when Albus didn't react, she said, "Lily Evans. This can't be a coincidence, Albus."

Albus had just been thinking exactly the same thing, but about another concurrence. Was it coincidence that he and Minerva had been reminded of Lily Evans at the same time? Had his instincts been right after all? Was there something important about the name Mark Evans?

Not being able to sort out the thoughts whirling through his head, he raised his eyes at his distressed Deputy and asked slowly, "Do you believe that Mark Evans and Lily Evans are related?"

"Yes, I do."

Minerva's quick and brisk reply seemed to straighten something in Albus' head.

"Lily didn't have any relatives except her sister," he said.

"Are you certain of that?" Minerva asked.

"To a certain degree, yes," Albus answered, stroking his beard. "Lily left me a list of her Muggle relatives and friends before she died. Her sister was the only family she mentioned. Her parents and grandparents were dead. If she had any other relatives, she wasn't aware of them. Mark might be a distant relative, but you might as well call that a coincidence."

Minerva seemed to mull that over for a while. Albus bent over his name list once again. He had successfully subdued his flaring instincts with his own reasoning, and the only thing left that could bother him now was the fact that Minerva was standing in front of his window and thus blocking the sunlight.

"Albus," Minerva said after a few minutes. Her eyes glittered; she seemed to have come to a decision. "Do you give me permission to do some research about this Mark Evans? I'm just wondering how he happens to live in Little Whinging."

"Certainly," Albus said, smiling. Minerva McGonagall made a wonderful Headmistress, especially because of things like this. She would never give up, and investigate every possibility imaginable. Most likely, she would return in a few days, laughing and telling him that Mark and Lily weren't related after all, but that she had nonetheless found some other interesting fact that she wanted to share.

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A New Home** Chapter Two – An Unexpected Fact

Minerva did indeed return to the Headmaster's office in a few days, laughing and telling that Mark and Lily were indeed related. Additionally, she had found some interesting fact about Mark.

"Three hundred and nineteen?" Albus asked shell-shocked.

Minerva nodded. "Indeed. I couldn't get access to other files to compare, but it seems to be quite a lot. Do you know how many times a wizarding child usually does accidental magic before he enters Hogwarts?"

"I do not have a very clear idea of that," Albus said slowly, "but we do have a few indications of course, but only of some cases. It is not certain what exactly influences that number."

He looked up and met the mystified gaze of his Deputy Head. Clearly, she couldn't follow the thoughts he had voiced aloud.

"I mean to say, Minerva," he started to explain, "that Muggleborn children might not have the same amount of magical accidents as pure-blood or half-blood children. It could also depend on the environment children are raised in. Obviously, we can only track the accidental magic done by children raised by Muggles."

"And?" Minerva said impatiently.

"Muggleborn children usually have thirty to seventy cases behind their names before they enter Hogwarts."

Minerva paled visibly.

"However," Albus continued, "very powerful children have been known to do accidental magic over a hundred times. The general consensus is that two hundred is the absolute maximum for Muggleborn children."

"But Mark is not Muggleborn," Minerva countered. "It might make a difference."

"Perhaps," Albus said thoughtfully.

"I don't suppose we ever managed to track the accidental magic of a pure-blood or half-blood child before?" Minerva sounded hopeful now. Albus wondered what answer she hoped to get. She would most definitely not like the answer she was about to obtain, as did Albus, for that matter. It was highly disturbing.

"We do," he said. "Harry Potter managed one hundred and fifty two, not counting blowing up his Aunt when he was thirteen."

Minerva sank into a seat. "So how is it possible that Mark had done so much magic?"

Albus stroked his beard and tried to sort out his thoughts. The whole story was very confusing.

"Is it possible," he asked, "that Mark is doing it on purpose? You told me his father is a wizard, although he lives as a Muggle. Therefore, in contrast to Muggleborn children, he could already know about our world."

"I don't think so," Minerva said. "After all, his father doesn't have a wand any more. I'm not sure at all that he told Mark about the wizarding world."

Albus surveyed her over his half-moon glasses. Was it a coincidence that young Mark appeared to be very powerful, while he was also related to Lily Evans? Lily had been an extremely powerful witch after all.

"Could you please explain how exactly Mark happens to be related to Lily?" he asked.

Minerva sat up straighter and nodded. "Well, as I already told you, his father is Tom Evans, who started Hogwarts a few years before Lily. You might also remember Tom's father, Charles Evans. I think you were still teaching when he attended Hogwarts."

"Yes, I remember," Albus said thoughtfully. "He started Hogwarts in the right time. Grindelwald had just been defeated, and most of his followers were gone. Muggleborn children, like Charles, were generally welcomed warmly at Hogwarts. Although there are always those who wish the Muggle and wizarding world to be separated."

"Yes, and it seems Charles' brother agreed with those people," Minerva said. "Roger Evans was two years older than Charles and absolutely detested wizards. They were estranged; even their children didn't know about the existence of their cousins. But as happens often, more than one magical child appeared in the family: Roger's daughter Lily turned out to be a witch."

Albus arched an eyebrow. "I remember quite clearly that Lily was very fond of her father."

"Yes, well, I'm not entirely sure about this part of the story," Minerva said, "but apparently, Roger changed his mind when Lily went to Hogwarts, and he tried to find his brother again. Unfortunately, Charles had been killed by You-Know-Who's followers a few years before. Roger investigated the murder, which cost him, his wife and his parents their lives."

"That's terrible," Albus said quietly. "And Lily and Tom lived next to each other in the wizarding world without ever knowing that they were related?"

"Not exactly," Minerva said gravely. "They did not know, indeed, but Tom didn't live in the wizarding world any more after his whole family had been killed. He stopped being a wizard."

"He broke his wand in two." It was a statement, not a question. There was only one way someone could cease to be a wizard.

"Yes," Minerva sighed. "And now he has a child, who received his Hogwarts letter yesterday."

"I don't see a reason for extreme power, though," Albus said pensively.

"I don't see it either," Minerva replied. "But do you think we'll have to tell him and his father?"

"Tell them what?" Albus asked surprised.

"Tell them about Mark's power, and his relation to Harry Potter."

"Why would we?"

"Mark doesn't know how powerful he is. His father might not know either. We have to warn them for what could happen if Mark takes a wand in his hand. He should be tutored well, maybe even before he comes to Hogwarts."

"And why should we tell him about Harry Potter?" Albus asked, mulling over Minerva's words in his head.

"For one thing," Minerva replied, "Mark's power might be related to Harry's power. For another, if You-Know-Who discovers that Harry has family left after all, Mark will be in danger. You know what happened only two months ago to the only person Harry considered family."

"Voldemort has no way of knowing that Mark and Harry are related. Neither of the boys knows that himself."

Minerva stared at Albus, surprise clear on her face. "Do you really want them to figure it out for themselves? Maybe they already have! They live in the same town. They could attract You-Know-Who's attention. It can be dangerous for Mark."

"Calm down, Minerva," Albus said. "I do not see any reason to tell them. Mark won't be in danger, whether he knows he is related to Harry Potter or not. And how exactly would you like to protect him? Posting guards at his house? That, more than anything else, certainly would attract attention."

Minerva slowly nodded. "Maybe you're right. I still think it can be dangerous when Mark and Harry figure it out for themselves, but of course I don't want guards at Mark's house. It'll be difficult enough for Tom without fully fledged wizards swarming around."

"And that is exactly why we should not initiate contact with Tom and Mark now," Albus said. "We will talk to Mark if he shows extreme power in the first weeks of term, but for now, I want them to be alone. They need to come to terms with this change in their lives. I do not wish to disturb them in the middle of that process."

They were silent for a few minutes.

"Have you considered that Tom might not let Mark come to Hogwarts?" Minerva asked quietly.

"It seldom happens." Albus said.

"But what if it happens?" Minerva insisted. "With Mark's power, it can be dangerous if he doesn't get proper education."

"We will cross that bridge when we get to it," Albus replied lightly. "Don't worry, Minerva, it will be all right."

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm reall sorry about being away so long, as a reward, I'm posting up 3 chappies at once. This will finish part 2. But don't fret; part 3 will be up soon!**

**A New Home** Chapter Three – A Nasty Family

Minerva clearly remembered that day, now fifteen years ago, when she had also trotted through this town, watching the Dursleys of number four, Privet Drive, and waiting for Albus Dumbledore. It had been a sad day.

Now she wasn't here to watch the Dursleys, and she was most certainly not waiting for Albus Dumbledore. No, she'd rather that Albus stayed far from Little Whinging today. Albus had decided that Mark Evans should not be warned, and that no wizards or witches should disturb him and his father at this time. But Minerva didn't entirely agree.

She wasn't planning to disturb the Evans family, not yet. She was perfectly disguised, and although she doubted Tom Evans would recognise her cat form from his Hogwarts days, she would try to stay out of his sight. She just wanted to watch, like she had watched the Dursleys so many years ago. She wanted to know how Mark and Tom were coping, now that they had received the Hogwarts letter.

One could call it spying. Minerva rather thought of it as taking care of one of her students.

She was walking through Privet Drive. She hadn't needed to, but now she was back in Little Whinging, she couldn't resist having a look at the place where she had once spent a whole day, the place where Harry Potter lived. The memories came back immediately, because the place hadn't changed at all. The same houses, the same carefully tended gardens. Only the car of the Dursleys had become much bigger.

When Minerva turned left at the end of Privet Drive, she caught sight of a young boy and his father, who were walking straight towards her. They were still about a hundred feet away from her, but she thought she noticed something familiar about the man. She quickly crossed the street and waited, lurking in the shadows, for the two people to come closer.

Two minutes later, she was sure. There was no mistaking the way the man repeatedly pushed his brown hair – now with a few streaks of white, which hadn't been there before – out of his eyes. His son had inherited the hair as well as the habit, although the colour of the boy's hair was somewhat darker.

Tom and Mark Evans turned into Privet Drive. Minerva quickly crossed the street and followed them, wondering if it was a coincidence. They lived nearby; there was no reason why they shouldn't walk through Privet Drive on a sunny morning, but Minerva still found it suspicious.

And she was right. Tom and Mark walked up the garden path of number four. They had barely touched the doorbell when the door opened, revealing a smiling Petunia Dursley. Minerva walked closer and caught a glimpse of Vernon Dursley, who was wearing a clearly expensive suit and was greeting the Evanses exaggeratedly friendly.

Minerva would have frowned if she hadn't been a cat. Something was wrong. When the front door closed, she abandoned all her good manners and quickly jumped into the garden. She lay down under the open living room window and listened.

"Mr Evans, please sit down," said a man's voice that Minerva assumed was Vernon Dursley's. "My wife will bring in the tea."

There was a clattering sound of teacups being placed on the table and a few formal exchanges were made.

Then Petunia Dursley asked, "I can't remember meeting you before. Have you lived here for a long time?"

"Four years, now." That was Tom.

"That's rather short," Vernon said, making clear that he considered himself superior to his guests. "We've been living here for ... what is it again, Petunia?"

"Twenty-two years," Petunia said in a sweet voice. "This is my parents' old house."

After a few seconds of silence, Tom said, "May I ask you the name of your father?"

"What?" shrieked Petunia, the sweet voice suddenly forgotten.

"I think," Tom continued calmly, "that we might be related."

"How would that be possible?" Vernon asked. "You don't have any family left, have you, Petunia?"

"No. No family at all. No family left." Petunia sounded scared.

But Tom didn't seem to notice. "If I'm correct, you are one of the two daughters of Roger Evans, my father's brother."

"You – you are a son of _Charles?_" Petunia shrieked.

"I am."

"But then –"

"Petunia, wait!" Vernon said, suddenly angry. He muttered something, and Petunia gasped.

"Excuse me for a moment," growled Vernon.

A door was opened. Someone yelled.

"HOW DARE YOU, BOY!" Vernon bellowed. "LISTENING IN ON OUR PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS! IN HERE! AND NO FOOD TODAY!"

Another door slammed, and then a boy started shouting. With a gasp of horror, Minerva recognised Harry Potter's voice.

"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT OF HERE!" A loud crash followed those words, and then another one. But the door didn't seem to give in. "LET! ME! OUT! YOU –"

Vernon slammed the living room door shut, and Harry Potter's voice was reduced to a muffled sound. Minerva thought it might be a good thing that she couldn't distinguish the words Harry Potter was now calling his uncle.

"Is that Harry Potter?" a high-pitched voice asked.

"Mind your own business, boy," Vernon growled.

"Harry Potter is your nephew, isn't he?" Tom asked, still politely. "Is he your sister's son?"

"I don't have a sister." That was Petunia again.

Silence.

"You're wasting our time," Vernon finally said. "Why don't you just go and leave us alone?"

"Hold on," Tom said. "We're family, you know."

"We don't want you!" Petunia shrieked hysterically. "You and your freak family should leave us alone! You will all get us dead, as you did with my parents!"

"I beg your pardon?" Tom said in a dangerous voice.

"My parents were killed because they went looking for that freak, Charles! My grandparents were killed by those freaks! My sister was killed because she married a freak! And last summer, my son almost had his soul sucked out because of my freak nephew! I DON'T WANT MORE FREAKS! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"Petunia," Vernon tried in a soothing voice.

"NO! VERNON, SEND THEM AWAY!"

Vernon obeyed at once and changed his voice to something he clearly thought was authoritative. "I suggest you leave now. Because of your precious father Charles, my wife's whole family was killed. Charles was nothing less than a murderer, and you're just like him."

A loud explosion followed. Someone started screaming, someone else started yelling.

Minerva jumped on the window-sill and looked through the window into the living room. Young Mark was standing closest to her, shaking. His father was trying to comfort him. At the opposite side of the room, Petunia Dursley was sitting on the floor, screaming. She was covered in dust. Next to her, Vernon Dursley was standing, yelling at the Evanses. Fragments of wood and glass were all over the floor. The far half of the living room was totally destroyed.

Accidental magic. Minerva realised at once what that meant. She jumped back on the ground, at the same time making sure that there were no Muggles in sight. She transformed and Disapparated.

**To Be Continued...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A New Home** Chapter Four – An Incapable Minister

"Don't ... send ... the ... letter!" Minerva gasped when she ran into the Improper Use of Magic Office. Mafalda Hopkirk, who was attaching a letter to a barn owl, looked up.

"Professor McGonagall!" she said surprised.

"Accidental magic ... Privet Drive ... not ... Harry Potter," Minerva managed to say, clutching her side.

"Not Harry Potter?" Madam Hopkirk asked. "But that can't be true, Harry Potter is the only wizard in Little Whinging."

"It was ... accidental," Minerva said.

"I doubt that," Madam Hopkirk said briskly. "It was most certainly wand-less, but a wizard who's almost of age doesn't lose control like that. No, I think it was done on purpose. It wouldn't be the first time Harry Potter did something like that."

Minerva straightened up, finally having caught her breath again. "It wasn't Harry Potter. It was accidental magic, performed by an eleven-year-old wizard, living in Little Whinging."

"I didn't know there were other wizards living in Little Whinging," Madam Hopkirk said suspiciously. She sat down behind her desk. "We've always kept track of that."

"Well, you don't keep track of wizards and witches before they enter Hogwarts, do you? That's something for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."

"Yes, you're right, Professor," Madam Hopkirk said, but then her face clouded again. "But what was a Muggleborn wizard doing in Harry Potter's house?"

Minerva hesitated.

"And I wonder," Madam Hopkirk said, her voice growing sharper, "what _you_ were doing in Harry Potter's house? Something is up with Harry Potter again, isn't it?"

Minerva didn't get the time to answer, because Madam Hopkirk went over to the fireplace in her office, and called out, "Cornelius! Come over for a moment, please."

Minerva groaned inwardly. She really didn't want to explain the situation to the Minister. She couldn't remember the last time Fudge made a right decision concerning Harry Potter.

Cornelius Fudge clambered ungracefully out of the fireplace. He straightened up to greet Madam Hopkirk, but then he saw Minerva.

"Professor McGonagall?" Fudge said nervously. "Are you – what – Dumbledore?"

"No, not Dumbledore," Madam Hopkirk said impatiently. "Professor McGonagall came to tell me a strange story, and I thought you'd like to know, too."

Fudge looked from Madam Hopkirk to Minerva and back.

Madam Hopkirk glared at Minerva, who didn't move at all, and continued. "I received intelligence that a Reductor Curse was used at Harry Potter's residence –"

"Not again!" Fudge whispered.

"– but Professor McGonagall here came in a few minutes later saying that it had been a case of accidental magic, by a Muggleborn wizard who also lives in Little Whinging, and who was apparently visiting Harry Potter."

Fudge nodded to show he understood and eagerly waited for Madam Hopkirk to continue. Which she didn't. It took a full minute for Fudge to realise he was supposed to say something.

"Uhm," he said, and with a glance at Minerva, "Harry Potter wasn't hurt, was he?"

"No," Minerva replied.

Fudge finally caught on. "So there's another wizard in Little Whinging? Not yet going to Hogwarts, I presume?"

"He has received his Hogwarts letter a few days ago," Minerva said.

"And he's Muggleborn?"

"No, he is not."

"There are no wizards or witches of age living in Little Whinging, Minerva," Fudge said with a tiny laugh. "He must be Muggleborn."

Minerva studied the Minister, who had regained his pompous composure, and now acted like the world was all his. Knowing Fudge wasn't going to like this, she said, "Do you keep track of wizards who have snapped their wands in half and lost their magical powers?"

Fudge's face grew red when he realised his mistake. "Who is it?" he asked angrily. "Who has snuck into Little Whinging? I'll find –"

"He didn't sneak," Minerva interrupted icily. "He just went back to the place where his grandparents had lived. And today, he and his son went to visit his cousin."

A stunned silence followed these words. Fudge seemed to eliminate possibilities in his head, finally coming to the right conclusion. "This young wizard is related to Harry Potter?"

"Indeed he is." Minerva decided she could as well tell the whole story now. She told the Minister and Madam Hopkirk about witnessing the Dursleys insult the Evanses, and about young Mark Evans blowing up the Dursley's living room.

"Do we need to send the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad?" Fudge asked.

Minerva imagined what would happen if another wizard turned up at the Dursley's doorstep today. Vernon Dursley certainly wouldn't be pleased. "No, I think they can manage."

Fudge nodded shortly. "Well, then we need to – I think – yes." He didn't seem to notice the puzzled look Madam Hopkirk sent him and the anxious one coming from Minerva. Instead, he looked rather pleased with himself. "Mafalda, could you please ask for a pair of Aurors? If you ask in person, they're more likely to agree," he added when Madam Hopkirk turned in the direction of the fireplace.

Minerva felt anger boil up in her when Madam Hopkirk exited her office. It seemed from Fudge's comment that the Ministry was short on Aurors. They could have used the past year to train new Aurors, but obviously, they hadn't. More important now, though, was what Fudge needed those Aurors for.

Minerva didn't need to ask, because Fudge turned to her with a happy smile. "You don't need to worry, Minerva, we will protect young Mark very well."

"Protect?" Minerva asked carefully. "Why would you need to protect Mark?"

Fudge's smile faded. "Now, now, Minerva, it's obvious that anyone related to Harry Potter is in danger of – of You-Know-Who!"

Minerva remembered the conversation she had had with Albus Dumbledore about this subject. They had agreed that there shouldn't be any guards posted at Mark's house. But that seemed exactly what Fudge was planning to do.

"Minister," she said, "You-Know-Who has no way of knowing that Mark is related to Harry. Mark and his father only just figured that out themselves. And You-Know-Who can't get to Harry Potter; maybe he can't even get into Little Whinging."

She was bluffing, but she had to use any means to keep Fudge from carrying out this senseless plan.

Fudge just smiled slightly. "Minerva, you have no idea of how You-Know-Who gets his information –"

"Don't I?" asked Minerva icily.

Fudge was taken aback for a moment. Apparently, he also remembered all the confined information that had leaked to You-Know-Who during the previous year, not the least of which had been spilled by Fudge himself, to Lucius Malfoy.

"Don't you think it's a bit too much," Minerva continued, "to protect an eleven-year-old boy with two Aurors, while he's going off to Hogwarts in a couple of weeks?"

"He needs to be protected while he's not yet at Hogwarts," Fudge said stubbornly. "He's not nearly as well protected as Harry Potter in Little Whinging."

"Can't you protect him in other ways?" Minerva asked. "This boy just discovered he's a wizard. Do you really need to swoop down upon him with two fully-fledged Aurors?"

"Yes, I need to!" Fudge yelled. "What's the matter, Minerva? Have you gone soft? Little children also might need protection, whether you like it or not!"

At that moment, Madam Hopkirk came bursting through the door. "They won't. Say they haven't got any Aurors available."

Fudge turned purple. Without a glance at Minerva, he swept to the door and left. Minerva thought she heard him muttering under his breath, "I'm the Minister, for heaven's sake."

**To Be Continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**A New Home** Chapter Five – A New Home

For the third time in a week, Minerva McGonagall burst into the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore looked mildly surprised, and offered her a seat.

"Albus, I need your help immediately," Minerva said, and without wasting another word on formalities, she started recounting everything that had happened that day. She barely took time to breathe.

"Thank you, Minerva," Albus said when she was finally finished. "You have done very well. Without your tenacity, Harry Potter would have been expelled today – again."

Minerva gaped. That was not the reaction she had expected. Not only had she thought Albus wouldn't be too pleased that she had gone to Little Whinging without telling him, she also had expected him to swing into action concerning the Auror protection of Mark Evans.

"We still have a problem, obviously," Albus continued, "but it is not as big as it could have been." He closed his eyes and apparently was deep in thought.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. His cool blue gaze bore into Minerva's own. "Do you think Cornelius will listen to reason?"

"Absolutely not."

"Very well," Albus said. "I'm certain I could – persuade him – to drop his plan, but I cannot do that too often. I would like to save it for another time. What we need to do is find a way to protect Mark without forcing a pair of Aurors on him. If we can protect him in some way, regardless how or how well, I am certain Fudge will agree. Especially since he's short on –"

He was interrupted by a snowy owl tapping at the window. Albus waved his wand to open it, and the owl landed on his desk and offered her leg, to which a letter was attached. Albus took off the letter, opened it and started to read.

He choked on the first sentence. Minerva tensed, but relaxed again when Albus seem to calm down after a few lines. At one point, he even smiled. Then his face turned pensive and his eyes flew over the letter once again.

Finally, he gave it to Minerva to read.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_I'm no longer at the Dursleys'. I thought I'd let you know. A little boy who lives a few streets away from Privet Drive came visiting the Dursleys today with his father. They told them they were related. Of course, the Dursleys being the Dursleys, they didn't want to hear it and started offending their visitors. Then suddenly the living room exploded. This boy, Mark Evans, turned out to be a wizard._

_The Dursleys didn't want any help with repairing the damage, they just told the Evanses to go away. Luckily for them, they did. But before they left, Mr Evans asked me to come with them. Aside from being family, he felt connected with me, as the Dursleys had just yelled obscenities at both of us. So the Evanses took me out of there and I'll be living with them for the rest of the summer._

_I'm very well aware of the protection the Dursleys give me. But seeing as I've walked around the neighbourhood before, and as you've no doubt ordered people to follow me around, I don't think it would be a problem to live a few streets away from the Dursleys. It might even be safer. The Dursleys would probably have blamed me for their ruined living room if I had't left._

_Before you even consider sending me back: don't. I'm feeling much better now I'm here. The Evanses are really nice people. I finally have family that doesn't treat me like dirt. I've only been here for a couple of hours, but it already feels more like home here than Privet Drive has ever done. Please don't send me back._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry Potter._

"He doesn't include that his Uncle locked him in a cupboard," Minerva said with distaste. "No wonder Tom took Harry with him, after having witnessed that."

Albus looked up. His eyes weren't twinkling, as they usually did. "It appears that we have two separate problems now. Harry is not safe with the Evanses. We need to find a solution quickly."

"So you're going to send him back," Minerva stated flatly. She didn't know the details of Harry's protection, but she knew that only the highest protection was enough for him.

Albus stared at the window. "It does not please me to send him back to the Dursleys. It makes him very unhappy. But unfortunately, I do not see another solution."

He buried his face in his hands, apparently thinking hard. Minerva knew there was ancient magic protecting Harry Potter, and ancient magic usually wasn't very flexible. It wouldn't be possible to move the protection to another place. And then there was still Mark, who was even in greater danger now Harry Potter was with him, unprotected. Even Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to know a solution.

"Both of our problems would be solved if Harry and Mark lived with the Dursleys instead of with the Evanses," Minerva said sadly.

Albus suddenly looked up. His eyes were glinting. "That's it. Give me that letter."

"What? I didn't mean to –" Minerva said, aghast. "You can't do that to them!"

"Of course I won't send them to the Dursleys," Albus said, stretching out his arm.

Minerva put the letter in his hand, watching him warily. She wasn't entirely convinced that this stroke of brilliance would bring any good.

"I have found the solution," Albus said proudly after having studied the letter again. At Minerva's questioning stare, he continued, "Do you know how the protection of Harry Potter works when he's with his relatives?"

Minerva shook her head.

"Basically, there's a place needed where Lily Potter's blood dwells, and which Harry can call home."

"Do you mean to say," Minerva said, "that the protection will work with the Evanses as well?"

Albus happily nodded.

"But it's not Harry's home," Minerva said, confused.

"Ah, but he only needs to _call _it home," Albus said. "And he calls it home in his letter!"

The evening found a tabby cat trotting in a garden in Little Whinging. A few birds fled before it, but the cat didn't seem to notice. It walked through the flowerbeds and over the lawn to the house. It stood still before the window for a few seconds. Then the cat scratched at the back door, and, when it finally was opened, slipped inside. It ignored the cries of surprise and walked straight to the leg of a teenage boy sitting at the kitchen table, and put a paw on his foot.

"What?" the boy asked surprised. Then realisation dawned on him. "Oh!" He glanced at the other people sitting around the table. "Er, I'm going outside in the garden for a moment."

When the cat and the boy had reached the darkest corner of the garden, the cat turned into a tall woman.

Minerva McGonagall smiled at the puzzled look at Harry Potter's face.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked. "Do I need to go back –?"

"You can stay, Mr Potter," Minerva replied. "Professor Dumbledore is busy performing several charms on the house. Your protection here will be the same as at your aunt and uncle's house."

A broad smile broke through Harry's face.

"However," Minerva continued, "Mr Evans is a more distant relative than Mrs Dursley, which means the radius of the protection is not as big as it used to be."

Harry's smile faded. His face adopted a stubborn look. Minerva was strongly reminded of the boy who had refused a biscuit in her office, almost a year ago, after he had got himself into detention for yelling at Umbridge.

"You can't confine me to the house," he started hotly. "I won't –"

Minerva cut him off. "There will be a member of the Order following you around, as usual. Now go back inside, before you catch a cold."

Harry looked like he wanted to comment on one – or probably both – of those statements, but he caught himself just in time. "Thank you, Professor," he said grudgingly, before he turned around and walked back to the house.

"And, Potter?" Minerva called. "Make sure you behave, or the Evanses won't want to keep you."

"I will," Harry said. He flashed her a smile and ran back into the house – his new home.

THE END

**Author's Note:** I hope this story managed to live up to the expectations. Let me know what you think. There's some good news: I thoroughly enjoy writing about Mark Evans, so the Artists and Scientists Universe will certainly not cease to exist.

**Thanks for reading!**


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